360 
A YOUNG PORKER 
Here is a picture of another fish hog. 
His other name is L. R. Austin, and he 
lives at Van Wert, O. The picture is 
labeled “Three Hours’ Fishing on Crystal 
Lake.” It should have been tagged “Three 
Hours’ Slaughter.” 1 am informed that Aus- 
.P_ 
Sait” as 
ke bs an Ps 
2 
i 
-- - 
H. C. AUSTIN, VAN. WERT, O, 
tin is only 19 years old. I trust that before 
he is 20 he will know he has disgraced him- 
self in the eyes of all decent men, and that 
in future he may quit when he gets enough. 
His number in the fish hog book 1s _ 1,007. 
—EpIiTor. 

RECREATION, 
DUG UP AGAIN. 
In Philadelphia, they inquire, 
“Who was your sire and his sire’s sire?” 
In Boston, you must make it plain 
You have an intellectual brain. 
In New York you must show the ’mount 
Of cash upon your bank account. 
In Baltimore, you must proclaim 
The women queens, in beauty’s name. 
In Washington, they give you place 
According to your rank and grace. 
In Denver, they are so polite 
That you must either drink or fight. 
Down in St. Louis, they exclaim 
“Where is it from where you have came!” 
In Chicago, when you walk the street, 
Chey always step upon your feet. 
In San Francisco, they demand 
That, being called, you show your hand. 
In Omaha, they merely grin 
And murmur, “When did you roll in?” 
In Albany, it’s “Hello, Will, 
What’s that you’ve got, another bill? 
In Brooklyn, you will find a friend 
If only you his church attend. 
But in Milwaukee, you will hear 
‘ ” 
“We make dat famous Cherman beer. 
In Cincinnati, they all say, 
“How long do you expect to stay?” 
In New Orleans you can’t be tony 
Unless vou always play a pony. 
In Key West, you must smoke cigars 
Or line along the hotel bars. 
But Yonkers lets you cut no ice, _ 
Unless, by Jove, you’ve got the price. 
—Yonkers Herald. 
“Pa, what’s a pessimist ?” 
“A man who always thinks when he gets 
up in the morning that it’s going to be the 
hottest day of the season.”—Chicago Rec- 
ord-Herald. 
© 
Bobby—Grandma, do your glasses mag- 
nify? 
Grandma—Yes, dear. 
“Well, when you cut my cake will you 
please take them off ?”—Harper’s Bazar. 

